ChoicesA Christmas Story
by ciaddict
Summary: A Bobby and Annie story


**CHOICES—A CHRISTMAS STORY**

_This is a story inspired by Squarey and her story, "Light". It left me wondering, what would have happened if Bobby and Annie hadn't gotten married? So this is an exploration of that theme. Sort of an alternate universe to the alternate universe I've created with my other Annie stories. We already know what Bobby's life was like without Annie. What would hers have been like without him? This story jumps ahead of where I am in my story, "Family", and is set post-Frame. _

_I don't own Bobby Goren or Alex Eames or any of the LOCI characters. I just ask if they can come out and play with the characters I have created. So far, they have kept me mightily entertained._

_Thank you to Squarey for the inspiration. Thank you to Spooky for being my beta. She catches my misspellings, typos, and mistakes in grammar, and somehow keeps up with my flights of fancy._

Annie looked out of the cab window at the light layer of snow covering the New York streets. She remembered the first winter she had spent here, back in college. They had snow in Connecticut, but somehow New York just seemed magical at this time of year. The streets took on a peculiar charm with snow covering the grime. The hats and hoods people wore to keep warm hid the usual dour expressions of busy New Yorkers hurrying to catch a cab, to get to the next important meeting. She had always loved New York in the winter.

Her thoughts turned to that one special winter. She doubted that she had felt the cold at all that entire season, warmed by the laughing dark brown eyes that almost seemed to hypnotize her. The tall, handsome Army sergeant with the dark, curly hair had wooed her that winter. Whether she was actually in his presence, warmed by the closeness of his body and the touch of those long fingers, or simply reading his thoughts poured out on paper in his neat, precise handwriting, she couldn't help but be warmed by his love. Had he truly loved her? She didn't have an answer to the question that had haunted her for nearly twenty years. All she knew for sure was that he made her feel loved. No, not just loved….treasured.

She sighed and let her memories move forward. It was another dark-haired young man who had exchanged vows with her and slipped a plain gold band on her finger. He wasn't as tall as the sergeant who had first stolen her heart, but he was handsome and his brown eyes had laughed at her, too. At least they had in the beginning. She couldn't remember the last time his eyes had been anything other than dull and blood-shot. Alcohol had robbed John of the laughter and the love that he had lavished on her when they first married.

She wondered if the children even remembered the man their father had been once. Did Ally remember when she thought her Daddy was the most handsome, strongest, and smartest man in the whole world? Did Phillip and Andrew remember squealing as they wrestled with him on the living room floor? Did any of them remember how warm and happy the house was that they had lived in here in New York? She knew they remembered the house, if vaguely; it had only been a little over four years since they moved to Connecticut. But she wasn't sure they remembered being happy here. Ally was only seven when they left, and the twins only four. How much did they remember?

Annie remembered. She remembered thinking that when _he_, the Army sergeant she had thought was The One, walked out of her life, she was convinced her heart would never recover, that she would never love again. But a few years later John had pushed himself into her life and swept her off her feet. He was outgoing and gregarious. Sometimes it seemed like she never knew what hit her. They were married in the spring of 1995. If occasional thoughts crept into her mind of another pair of brown eyes, of another pair of strong arms holding her as they danced, she firmly pushed them away.

The early days of their marriage had been full of devotion to one another. Sometimes it seemed that they were the only people in the world. Two years after their wedding they bought a house and moved in shortly before their blond-haired, blue-eyed daughter was born. Three years later she was joined by her dark-haired, brown-eyed twin brothers. Their family was complete and they agreed they did not need or want any more children.

Annie met a young police officer named Alex Eames after Alex's husband, a detective, was shot and killed. He was brought to the ER while Annie was working and she had gone with the doctor to break the news. She admired the small, tough woman who never shed a tear in public. In spite of her lack of tears, Annie had seen the grief when they told her that Joe was dead. Alex had been touched by Annie's kindness and a few months later she stopped by the hospital to thank her. They struck up a conversation and made arrangements to go to lunch later in the week. Although they were different in so many ways, they had liked each other and enjoyed one another's company. They kept in touch and occasionally met for dinner or lunch.

During one such dinner, Alex had been complaining about her new partner in the Major Case Squad. She told Annie she had written a letter to her captain, requesting a new partner but hadn't given it to him yet. She talked about some of her partner's bizarre behaviors. Annie told her that if she was that concerned she should turn the letter in and request a new partner. She needed to be able to trust her partner, and if she didn't it could be dangerous for both of them. Alex turned in the letter, but later told Annie she asked her captain to disregard it. After working with her quirky partner for a time, she began to realize how well he understood human behavior and how good he was at getting into a perp's head and getting him to confess.

It was then that Alex mentioned her partner by name. Annie was taken aback when she heard the name and asked Alex to repeat it. Alex told her that her partner's name was Robert Goren. Annie stopped eating and stared down at her plate. Alex asked her what was wrong and she just smiled and said that Alex had brought her a ghost from her past. She explained that she had dated Bobby Goren years ago, when he was in the army.

Sometime between the birth of Ally and the birth of the twins, there had been a shift in her relationship with John. It was ever so slight, but she felt it and she knew he did too. It seemed to center around her blossoming spiritual awakening. John didn't understand and didn't want to understand. He didn't understand why she would give up long, lazy Sunday mornings in bed in order to get up, rush around getting the children fed and ready, and going to church. He refused to go with her and often they ended up arguing in the afternoon.

Then a year after the twins were born, Annie realized she was pregnant again. This was not planned and as far as John was concerned, it was not a welcome surprise. He wanted her to have an abortion. When she refused, he became angry. For her entire first trimester, while she somehow managed to make it to work day after day in spite of the vomiting that threatened to land her in the hospital, John had kept up the pressure for her to abort this pregnancy. Finally, as she entered her second trimester and the morning sickness subsided, so did John's constant arguing and angry words. However they were replaced with silent anger that was just as devastating to her. Gone was the laughter that filled her heart with gratitude. Gone were the lingering, appreciative looks as she walked through a room. Gone were the smiling kisses. The silence was oppressive. Annie hoped that with time John would accept and even welcome a new baby.

He never got the chance. Annie was attacked by a knife-wielding man while she was working in her church's soup kitchen. The baby died and Annie nearly died with her. John never left her side while she was in the hospital. But the silence continued, this time from guilt. He hadn't wanted the baby; he had wanted, insisted, that she have an abortion. Now the baby was gone.

Annie tried to reassure him that she didn't blame him, but he wouldn't talk about it. As the weeks passed, John's anger returned. He blamed Annie for working in the church soup kitchen and exposing herself to "people like that". When she insisted that the ADA make a deal with the man so that he would get treatment for his paranoid schizophrenia rather than jail time, John was furious. But she wouldn't be swayed and the man was sent to a psychiatric facility. She remembered the day that he was sentenced, when she discovered that the man's wife was pregnant. It had felt like she was punched in the stomach. But rather than comfort her, John had turned silent, accusing eyes on her. He began having a beer every night when he came home, and with time it became two beers, then three. Within a year he was drinking most of the time that he was not working. Annie tried to talk to him about it, but he told her that he was fine.

Annie and Alex continued to get together on occasion. Annie never asked about Alex's partner and Alex said very little about him, or about work. About a year after the attack, Annie ran into Bobby in the ER. The first time was when an ambulance brought a John Doe in, unconscious and obviously beaten very badly. She had discovered drugs on him as they were treating him and she turned them over to the detectives who were investigating. After the man regained consciousness, he was able to tell them his name and give them the number of a family member to call. His name was Frank Goren and his family member was Bobby. They only spoke for a few minutes, about Frank's condition. She later saw him talking to Briscoe and Green, the detectives she had turned the drugs over to. She wondered why they hadn't placed Frank under arrest, but then he was sent to a room upstairs and she never found out what had happened. She did know that she was never called to testify about finding the drugs.

The next time she saw Bobby, he and Alex were escorting an ambulance bringing in a teenage boy who had taken cyanide. Annie's face burned as she remembered that encounter. Bobby, Alex, and Ron Carver, the ADA, had requested that she not notify the boy's father of his death so that they could trick the man responsible into confessing. But she insisted that she had a duty to notify the father. She dug in her heels and refused to cooperate. They had all ended up in the Chief of Staff's office. Annie realized now that she overreacted because of her own suppressed grief and anger over the death of her child. She had never even cried in the year since the event. She was so busy dealing with John—his guilt, his anger, his grief, and his drinking—that she had never taken to the time to deal with her own.

When Bobby suggested to the Chief that she was overstepping her authority, and then the Chief agreed with him, she was so angry she couldn't even speak. After Alex requested pictures of the dead boy, she accompanied Annie back to the ER. Annie took the pictures and gave them to Alex, saying, "Your partner is a jerk!" She felt a twinge of regret over her angry outburst when Bobby and Alex showed up later with the father of the boy. Bobby stayed after Alex left to take the father home, and asked to speak to her in private. They went to the empty break room and Bobby just looked at her without speaking for several moments.

Finally he said softly, "I heard about what happened to you last year, Annie. I'm so sorry for your loss."

How did he do that? It had been fifteen years since he walked out of her life, and all those years later it still felt like he could read her mind. She had looked at him wordlessly as tears began to fill her eyes. Tears that she had been holding back for over a year. She still didn't speak as the tears overflowed and ran down her face. Bobby had closed the distance between them and pulled her into his arms. She felt those strong arms around her once again and her silent tears became wracking sobs as she clung to him. She didn't know how long they stood there. She cried for the pain and fear of that day she was attacked, she cried for the baby she lost, she cried for her marriage and her inability to stop it from disintegrating. Bobby never said a word, he simply held her against his chest, his cheek against the top of her head.

When she had no more tears, still he held her, waiting for her shaking to subside as well. She took a deep, shaky breath and looked up at him. Bobby pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and gently dried her eyes, one arm still around her waist. He pressed the handkerchief into her hand, then put one finger under her chin and tilted her head back slightly. He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. He released her, stepped away, and walked out the door without saying a word. That was the last time she saw him. She realized she was still holding his handkerchief. Annie had taken it home, washed and ironed it, folded it gently, and laid it in the back of a drawer in her dresser.

Less than a year later John had been fired from several jobs and he no longer even bothered to look for work. Annie was working overtime, trying to make their house payments and pay the bills. But she felt like she was drowning. Her grandfather in Connecticut had suffered a heart attack. Although he was recovering, he needed help at home. The decision was made for Annie and John to sell their house and move the family into Grandpa's home. It was only to be temporary, until they could afford to buy a small house of their own. But four years later they were still living with Grandpa.

It was an arrangement that worked well. Grandpa enjoyed having children in the house again and Annie was able to keep an eye on his health. John continued to drink. All of the bar owners and bartenders in the small town knew him and Annie often got calls to come and pick him up when he couldn't drive. John wasn't a mean drunk; he didn't yell, he wasn't abusive. He just seemed to exist in a world of his own, enclosed in an alcohol-induced fog. He rarely spoke to her or the children. They lived in the same house, but they might as well as have been in separate states.

She and Alex remained friends. Two or three times a year Annie was able to spend a weekend with Alex in the city. During one such weekend, shortly before Alex had given birth to her nephew, they witnessed a car hit a little boy and had rendered aid. One of the motorists who stopped to help was an off-duty firefighter named Tom Spencer. He and Alex began dating shortly after that.

Annie was in New York visiting Alex this weekend. Tom had to work so Alex had asked her to come with her to the department Christmas party. Annie agreed only after Alex assured her that Bobby would not be there. She didn't think she could face making small talk with him, to answer questions about her life. Alex didn't talk about Bobby very much, but she had told Annie when his mother died. Annie sent him a card, telling him how sorry she was. She also knew that he had gotten into some kind of trouble and was suspended from his job for months. Last summer Alex told her that his brother, Frank, died and Annie sent another card.

The cab pulled up to the restaurant and Annie got out. Alex had been called in to work and was going to meet her there. She paid the driver and turned to enter the restaurant. Inside, it was warm and cheerful. Music was playing and she could hear the clink of glasses and the murmur of voices. She checked her coat and looked to see if Alex was there yet. She saw her across the room, standing at the bar and went to join her.

Alex introduced her to several people from the Major Case Squad. Dinner was excellent and Annie laughed at the stories told around the table. She danced with a couple of men. She was able for a short time to forget her difficulties at home and just have fun. As one dance ended and another began, Annie was thanking Riche for the dance when she heard a deep voice behind her.

"May I have this dance?"

She knew before she turned around. She would know that voice anywhere. She turned and looked up into his gentle brown eyes. His appearance had changed somewhat; he had gained weight, his hair was salt and pepper, he had a short beard. But the sight of him still had the power to make her heart skip a beat. She smiled as he took her into his arms and they began to dance. They didn't speak during that dance, or the next one, or the next. There was nothing intimate in the way he held her, yet it felt intimate all the same. She thought back to the last time they danced. Had it really been twenty years? It seemed as though it was just yesterday.

After the third dance, Bobby led her off the dance floor to a small table in the corner. The waitress came to get their drink order and Bobby ordered a Glenlivit. Annie ordered a soda and Bobby smiled as the waitress walked away.

"Still no alcohol?" he asked.

"No alcohol," she smiled.

"Or meat or sex?"

Annie laughed and he laughed with her, remembering "the rules" she had set out the first time he asked her for a date. The waitress returned with their drinks. Annie looked at him over the rim of her glass.

"I thought you weren't coming tonight," she said.

"I hadn't planned on it. You look great," he told her.

"So do you."

Bobby smiled self-depreciatingly and shook his head, running his hand across the back of his neck. Annie's breath caught in her throat at the familiarity of that gesture.

"I'm getting old," he said softly.

"Hey," she said with a smile, "I'm only a few months younger than you. We are _not_ getting old."

He smiled back at her. "How old are your kids," he asked.

"Ally is eleven. The twins, Phillip and Andrew, are eight."

"You're living in Connecticut?"

"Yes. Grandpa had a heart attack a few years ago and I wanted to be closer to him. It turns out we are very close," she laughed. "We live with him. It's been a good arrangement. He loves having the kids around and they adore him. And it's nice for them to grow up in the same small town where I grew up. Everyone knows everyone."

He nodded. "How is your husband?"

She hesitated before answering, "John's fine. He loves the town, too. What about you?" She wanted to steer the conversation into a safer area. "Tell me about your life, Bobby," she said softly. "Are you happy?"

"Happy?" He took a sip of his drink. "I'm not sure I know what that means."

"Is there anyone special in your life? Any little Gorens running around?"

He shook his head. "No little Gorens. Someone told me once that maybe kids weren't for me. I think she might have been right."

"I think she might be an idiot," Annie said softly. He glanced at her. "I seem to remember that you loved kids. And I remember seeing you with my cousins' children. They loved you. So _I_ think whoever told you that didn't know what she was talking about."

He chuckled and shook his head again. "As it turns out, she was probably the person who knew the real me better than anyone else in the world."

"Was?"

"She died."

Annie reached over and laid her hand over his. "I'm sorry. Were you in love with her?"

Bobby looked at her for a moment before answering. "I might have been…under other circumstances."

"Other circumstances?" A sudden memory rose in her mind of a night twenty years earlier. "You told me once that things between us might have been different 'under other circumstances'. Have you…" she hesitated and smiled sadly at him. "Have you been using that same line for the last twenty years to avoid intimacy, Bobby?"

He didn't answer for several long moments. He looked down at her hand on his, and turned his hand to link fingers with hers.

"The circumstances that kept us apart were different from the circumstances that kept me apart from her." He sighed and looked up at her. "She was a serial killer."

"Oh!" Annie didn't know what to say.

"But Nicole understood the circumstances of my life that have made any serious, long-term, relationships out of the question."

"Circumstances like a mentally ill mother and a drug-addict brother?"

"Yeah," he said, "among others. Annie…my….my life is all about criminals. It's not very conducive to long-term relationships or family life."

Annie pulled her hand away from his and clasped her hands in her lap.

"It seems to me," she said softly, "that I have met a lot of cops tonight and their wives. Their lives are 'all about criminals', too. But they seem to have found a way to have families."

"It's different for me. I don't just investigate and arrest criminals. I study them, get into their heads. I _understand_ them. Take Declan Gage. He spent his life getting into the heads of serial killers, and he tried to have a family. His wife committed suicide and his daughter became a serial killer. You know that Eames was kidnapped by Jo Gage?" Annie nodded her head as he continued. "She was almost killed because of _her_ relationship with me, because of our partnership. And now Declan Gage himself is a killer. He killed Nicole Wallace….after sending her to kill my brother. That was his idea of setting me free. _That's_ my life, Annie. It's not just my professional life; my whole life is about killers. Before she died…" he hesitated, then went on. "Before she died, my mother told me that she didn't know who my father was…that it could have been Mark Ford Brady, another serial killer. I had a DNA test, and he _was_ my father. That's why I made the right decision twenty years ago."

"The right decision?"

"To set _you_ free."

"Free…" she repeated.

"If I hadn't walked away from you back then, if we had gotten married and had a family, this is what our lives would have been. Nicole killed Frank because she thought he was all I had. If I had a family, she might have killed them, too."

"Or maybe she wouldn't. You can't know how things would have been if you and I had stayed together. Maybe, Bobby, just maybe, you would have had a wife to love you and face all these difficulties with you. Maybe," she said softly, "we would have been happy together."

Bobby shook his head. "My life has been one train wreck after another. I couldn't ask a woman, I couldn't ask _you_, to be a part of that. By walking away, I gave you the chance for a normal life. And you have it. You have a husband who doesn't study autopsy photos in his spare time, kids who you are raising in your hometown; you're close to your grandfather and your family. That's the life I wanted for you, the life I couldn't offer you. I wanted…" his brown eyes held hers with and intensity. "I wanted you to be happy. And I knew I couldn't offer that."

Annie stared at him in silence for several long moments.

"Happy? Is that what you think I am?"

He frowned. "Aren't you?"

"My husband," she said softly, "is an alcoholic. He hasn't held a job in four years. We live with my grandfather because we couldn't afford the house that we bought here in New York on my salary. John drifts through life in haze of alcohol. He's not a husband to me or a father to our children. I work long hours to support our family because he can't…won't…work. Then I come home and take care of our children…alone. He lives in the house with us, but we might as well be alone. I can't even remember the last time he touched me."

"I didn't know, Annie. I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" She laughed bitterly. "Why are you sorry, Bobby? You made the decision to walk away to 'save' me from a terrible life with you. This is the life _you_ chose for me. Why are you sorry?"

"I thought I was doing the best thing for you," he said softly.

"_You_ thought _you_ were doing the best thing for _me_. You didn't give me any say in this decision. This was your choice. It was your choice to go through everything that has happened to you alone. It was your choice for me to have this 'normal, happy life'. Maybe, just maybe, Bobby, if you had allowed me to be part of this decision we could have worked it out. Maybe we would be celebrating our life together instead of wondering what could have been. Maybe…." Her voice broke as she fought back tears. "Maybe you and I would have been happy."

She didn't wait for him to respond. She was afraid of embarrassing herself by bursting into tears. She needed to get out. Annie abruptly got up and walked away. She quickly walked through the restaurant to the coat check and got her coat. She couldn't hold back the tears as she exited the restaurant. She went out into the cold and looked for a cab. She knew that Alex would be looking for her, but she couldn't talk right now. She would call Alex from the cab. The tears were flowing freely now, blurring her vision and making it difficult to see if there was a cab anywhere nearby.

"Annie," she heard him call her name softly. And then he was there, pulling her into his arms, murmuring her name, burying his face in her hair. She let him wrap his arms around her as she sobbed, wetting his shirt with her tears. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he whispered. She wrapped her arms around his waist. She lifted her face to look up at him. He brushed his thumb across her wet cheek and lowered his head. His lips touched hers gently at first. But as she opened hers to welcome him, his mouth took control, his tongue delving into the warmth and sweetness of her mouth. His fingers threaded into her hair and pulled her even closer. The kiss deepened and she clung to him as she felt the passion flare between them.

They stood for long minutes on the cold sidewalk, warming one another with their bodies and their kisses. Bobby pulled back slightly so that he could see her face. He looked at her closely, tracing her features with his finger. He leaned his forehead against hers and closed his eyes.

"Annie, I'm sor…." But she cut him off.

"Don't, Bobby. Don't apologize," she whispered.

She disengaged and stepped back. Looking up at him, she traced her fingers over his face just as he had done to her. She smiled tremulously up at him.

"I need to apologize for the things I said. You aren't responsible for John's alcoholism, he is. You didn't choose this life for me, I did. You chose to walk away twenty years ago. Whether that was the right choice or not, we can't go back and undo it. And all the choices I've made since then have been mine, and mine alone. I may have some regrets in my life. But I don't regret falling in love with John or having these three amazing children with him. You didn't ruin my life, Bobby. I've had a good life. Who knows what could have been if you and I had married? It's too late for 'what ifs'. Our lives are what they are."

He closed his eyes and gave a deep sigh. When he opened his eyes, he nodded his head and smiled sadly at her.

"So now what? Do you want to go back inside?"

"No," she shook her head. "I'm going back to Alex's so I can pack and get an early start in the morning. I need to go home." She looked up at him. "To my kids. And my husband."

He nodded again, and leaned down for one last, gentle kiss.

"Merry Christmas, Annie."

"Merry Christmas, Bobby."

He turned and walked down the street. Annie stood shivering in the cold and watched him walk away; watched him walk out of her life. Again.

Annie shivered and opened her eyes. She was cold and shivering, and then she realized why. The blanket and sheet had slipped off while she slept, leaving her shivering in the cold bedroom. She turned over and saw him there next to her, sound asleep. As she scooted back under the covers and up against her husband's warm back, she remembered. It was Christmas Eve, well, Christmas morning now, she realized as she saw the clock next to the bed said 3:00 AM. She remembered what he said before she fell asleep.

He was in a pensive mood tonight. As he wrapped himself around her, he traced his fingers across her face, through her hair. It was as though he were trying to convince himself that she was really there.

"I don't know why you have stayed with me," he whispered, "in spite of everything I've put you through the last few years. You could have had a different life, a happier life, with someone who wouldn't have failed you so badly."

She hadn't known how to answer and so she said nothing. She drifted to sleep with his words playing in her mind. She had dreamed a strange dream, but it seemed so real. She was married to someone else and had a very different life. But was it better than the one she had now?

As her cold body touched him, he turned toward her and wrapped his warm arms around her, pulling her tightly against him. She clung to him and let his warmth seep into her. He brushed her hair with his lips and murmured drowsily.

"You're cold. Did you have a bad dream?"

"Yes, but my dreams always end happily as long as I wake up with you next to me." He chuckled softly. "You were wrong, you know," she whispered.

"Wrong about what?"

"My life wouldn't have been better without you. It would have been different, but not better. If I could have chosen any life, any circumstances, this is the one I would have chosen. Even the bad things…as long as you are part of it."

He opened his eyes and looked down at her for a moment. He smiled at her and leaned in to kiss her.

"Merry Christmas, Annie."

"Merry Christmas, Bobby."

**End**

13


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